Born of Boredom
by Charlie Yubari
Summary: Near walks slowly, intently, like he resents the activity extremely but is determined to see it through." Matt is not keen on a special day out for the Top Ten. Neither, it turns out, is Near. Wammy's House fic.


Near walks slowly, intently, like he resents the activity extremely but is determined to see it through. Their minders keep telling him to keep up; Matt can imagine how much it must piss him off.

They're on a trip, a special treat for the Top Ten. They're visiting a Science Centre. Whoo. Matt wishes they were getting taken into London, but presumably the minders employed by Wammy's House have just enough awareness to realise that might not be a great idea.

Matt isn't sure what he makes of these occasional attempts to pretend that Wammy's House is a normal orphanage. It isn't. Kids don't get adopted from Wammy's; they get old enough to leave or they buckle and get sent elsewhere. He and Mello tell the new kids, younger kids, the same horror stories they got told when they first arrived: suicides and murders and kids gone mad. Matt wonders about them, sometimes.

None of the kids are normal. It's not just the genius thing. Or maybe it is; maybe you can't lose your family that young, fully understanding the implications, without it... twisting something, slightly.

Maybe Wammy's only has use for the ones that are twisted. Twisted _just so_. Too much and the child breaks. Too little, and why would they want the only prize Wammy's offers?

Matt's not sure he wants it anymore. He's careful not to show it, in case they realise and send him someplace else. Someplace normal.

Matt glances back. Near's falling badly behind now. It must be a novel experience.

He lets the other kids pass him, slowing his pace until he's beside the white-haired boy. "You're going to get lost," he points out. Near says nothing. Matt glances down, realises he's not wearing shoes. "Your socks are filthy. Didn't they give you trainers?"

Trainers. He's been living in England for too long.

"I didn't want them. There's no reason they couldn't have hired a mini-bus," Near adds, in such a voice that it takes Matt a moment to realise that Near is _complaining_.

"Either you let me pick you up, or we get lost properly and go somewhere cool."

"... and Mello?"

"We're not _actually_ the same person. He's grounded, anyway, he set fire to some of Linda's pictures."

It had been sort of funny at the time, but Matt can't help feeling slightly uneasy as he says it. Linda had cried pretty hard. But Near doesn't seem to care either way, which is why Matt likes him - there's a lot of stuff Matt probably ought to care about, but doesn't.

He doesn't like Near enough to try to stop Mello from getting at him. But he doesn't see why they shouldn't hang out.

Near looks like he's considering. "We can go as slow as you like," Matt adds. "And I know the bus schedule, we can get back to Wammy's pretty easy."

The boy narrows his eyes at Matt. They've practically stopped; irritable adults push past them without a second glance. "Why?"

Matt shrugs. "I'm bored." 

Winchester isn't that big a place. Near wants to go to a toy shop; Matt wants to go to Electronics Boutique. They end up in a pet shop. Matt always wonders why you never get puppies in these places, just rodents and birds and reptiles and fish. The snakes are cool, though, and he spends some time waggling gloved fingers in front of a corn snake, watching it follow him.

"You shouldn't tease them," Near says. He's folded up on the floor, watching a cage of mice. Matt's surprised - surprised that Near cares, and that he even noticed. Of course, he does about five pieces of homework at once while staging elaborate Transformer battles, so it shouldn't be so odd that he was watching Matt in his peripheral vision.

Matt's still not used to being watched. He gets a certain amount of it, being third, but... he prefers it when all eyes are on Mello, when he's just the kid snickering in the corner. The goggles _should_ draw attention - for all they keep people from really seeing his face - but how could anyone look at anything but Mello when he's in his stride? 

"I'm not," he protests. "It's probably really dull stuck in there, I'm just giving him something to do."

"Such a philanthropist." Near's voice is as emotionless as always, but dry, and Matt laughs.

"Wow, Near, you're a dick." Matt _does_ like Near, he decides. Later on - once the shop assistants throw them out, tired of waiting for them to try to shoplift - Matt asks, "You ever been to London?"

Blink. "London? No."

"Me neither. It's only a two-hour bus ride away."

Near is silent for a long time. They're meandering, Matt notices, in the direction of the train station. "You're asking me to go to London with you?"

Matt shrugs. "Why not? We don't have the money today, but there are other weekends. We could go to Forbidden Planet and Hamley's."

He twists a lock of hair between two fingers. "We aren't supposed..." he begins, but Matt laughs and rolls his eyes.

"'By current laws, I have committed many crimes,'" he intones, not yet blasphemous enough to imitate the synthetic voice. "Come on, like you actually care. And _they're_ not going to care if you disappear for an afternoon. They might see it as an 'unprecedented display of initiative'."

The wording is straight from Near's last progress report, a highly confidential document Roger makes a huge deal of. Near knows it. Matt knows he knows it. He gives Matt a look, and Matt smiles.

"Perhaps."

They spend the day not doing much in particular. Eventually - because Near is getting even slower, and his feet must be covered in blisters by now - they find a small park, and sit on a bench for a while. Near's the least talkative person Matt has ever met, barely responding even when prompted. Not only that, he makes Matt feel energetic in comparison: Matt, who's not very good at running or football or anything like that, who runs out of breath, who'd rather sit on the steps and play his Gameboy and maybe yell out some encouragement every now and then.

He persuades Near to go on one of the swings. Then, because Near seems uninterested in actually swinging, he jumps on, plants his feet on the swing, and starts it in motion for both of them.

Near lurches backwards. His hands grasp at the leg of Matt's jeans for anchorage - and then, as he gets higher, he _laughs._

Matt doesn't think he's ever heard Near laugh. They've been at Wammy's together for more than three years. Part of him begins to think it might not be that bad to... _not_ be the sidekick. Every now and then, at least.

Maybe they really will go into London. 

Maybe he won't just invite Mello instead.

It's almost dark when they get back (Near has never used public transport in his life, he says, so Matt intentionally has them catch bus with the longer route). There's a minor commotion as they're ushered inside, and Matt imagines the dilemma with two of the top three missing: they're precious commodities, but they'd be pretty useless successors if they couldn't even find their own way back from town. Roger was probably having fits. A small crowd comes to peer at them - and Mello slides out of a corridor, all black and gold and scowling: at the day of chores, at Matt's late return. Matt wanders away as Near's filthy socks are peeled off by the school nurse. He really doesn't want to see the soles of his feet. He'd been limping pretty badly by the time they got off the bus.

"Hey."

Mello's scowl softens a bit. "Hey."

"How was it?"

"I needed to clean the _showers_." He wrinkles his face. "At least I wasn't stuck with Marshmallow Boy all day. That must have been lame."

And Matt doesn't glance over to see whether Near's watching him still, to see his expressionless gaze or whether he flinches as the nurse cleans and bandages his blisters. 

He'd been standing behind Near on the swing at the park; he still doesn't know what Near looks like while he's laughing.

"... yeah," he says. "Really lame."


End file.
